


None of Our Tomorrows Can be Saved

by Ironlawyer



Category: Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Civil War (Marvel), Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 19:31:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11766837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ironlawyer/pseuds/Ironlawyer
Summary: Steve and Tony fight at the end of Civil War and Steve takes things too far.   Now he must deal with the consequences.





	None of Our Tomorrows Can be Saved

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Cap IM Tiny RB Round 6: Commander](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11713596) by [Shaliara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaliara/pseuds/Shaliara). 



> Also for Stony bingo square 'The End'.

The armour cracks and there’s a crunching, squelching metal sound like a butchers knife cleaving a ham hock on a metal work surface. Long rebar stabs through Tony’s chest like a life-sized voodoo doll. Steve drops the shield. ‘The suit, it…’ he says. A thousand times he’s seen Iron Man hit by blades and bullets and hundreds of different weapons and abilities and the suit always comes away with hardly a scratch. This time the suits crumbles away like so much chalk dust and Steve’s anger crumbles away with it. It was an accident but the kind of accident that only happens when in some way it was supposed to. And now every cut and bruise seems stark on suddenly pale flesh and everything that was important isn’t anymore.

He’s seen Tony hurt countless times, the fear that would shine behind his eyes hidden by the hint of a smile. If Iron Man was needed he would always get up. But this time, Tony can’t get up, and there is no faint smile. This time Tony is dying. The sirens continue to sound and the fires continue to burn and Steve’s heart continues to beat.

If he could move he would fall to his knees and pray, not to God or the universe but to Tony and to himself. _Forgive me, forgive me, please be okay, don’t leave me, I hate you, I love you, I’m sorry, don’t die, don’t die, don’t die._ There are a thousand things he needs to say and none of them are good enough.

He closes his eyes but can’t shut out the smell of smoke and dust and blood. When he opens them again the world is just as he left it. ‘Steve…’ Tony wheezes and his throat contracts like he needs to cough but it hurts too much.

Steve steps closer, his legs moving like they’re tied to the ground. He reaches for Tony, but there’s nothing for him to do, he can’t help him, he can’t hold him. He’s right here, but he’s watching this from miles away. ‘I’m sorry,’ Steve says. They were just supposed to fight. They would argue, then brawl, then one of them would walk away in cuffs and this war would finally be over.

‘I forgive you.’ There’s a weight to the words and the way Tony doesn’t break eye contact, but Steve shakes his head. This war is not over. There is no forgiveness to give yet. Maybe years from now, when they are older and it is all in the past and they can’t quite laugh about it because the pain is still there. Then they could forgive. ‘I forgive you,’ Tony repeats like he doesn’t know it isn’t over.

Steve wants to say the same, but he chokes on the words and a sob. _You were right._ Even now he can’t bring himself to say it. Tony is dying right beside him, because of him. Tony who has said all along that someone needs to answer for this. And still the words are tied up inside him like he doesn’t believe it’s his last chance to say them. ‘Please,’ he says instead, ‘please don’t.’ And he doesn’t know if he’s asking Tony not to die or not to forgive him.

Tony lifts a cracked gauntlet but it shakes and drops back to his side. ‘Could you -’ But he’s broken off by a choking noise in the back of his throat as blood trickles from the corner of his mouth. ‘I just want to touch you.’

Steve grabs for his hand and yanks off the crumbling gauntlet. He lifts Tony’s arm and presses his cold hand again Steve’s own clammy cheek. Tony smiles. ‘Your skin is so soft.’

Steve’s hand drifts to Tony’s wrist and he presses his thumb in tight to feel the thrum of Tony’s heart like a silent soundtrack of _alive, alive, alive._

They stop there, caught between each other and too many words and not enough time. If Steve could’ve picked one moment to get caught in the ice, this would be it, because even though it hurts now, it will hurt more to let it go.

‘Steve… can I rest now?’ There’s a kind of softness in his voice, the gentle tone he takes when talking to small children.

Steve’s hand tightens around Tony’s wrist. Tony is giving up. After a thousand battles and hundreds of injuries today is the day he won’t fight. ‘No,’ Steve says, ‘you can’t rest. Ever. Don’t close those eyes on me.’

‘I’m so tired.’ He sounds it. Every word is quieter than the last, peaceful almost, like he’s falling into a gentle sleep.

Steve had pictured them once, old and grey walking side by side, him with a cane and Tony with some invisible robotics. He’d laugh at Steve for being so old fashioned, and Steve would laugh at him for being so frivolous. They’d bore the newest Avengers with stories of the past, and when they died they’d do it together, because they couldn’t live alone anymore. ‘I’m not ready,’ he says.

Tony smiles but there’s a fear behind his eyes. ‘Okay then.’ 

Maybe Steve is selfish to ask this but all his life he’s been his own second thought. Maybe it’s not selfish if he _needs_ this to be alright. Or maybe he’s earned the right to be selfish just this once. Of all the close call victories he’s ever had he’d give them all up for just this one. Steve closes his eyes. ‘You’ll be okay.’ He needs it to be true because if it isn’t, Steve will know for the rest of his life that’s he’s not just a killer, he’s a murderer. Of everything they could’ve been, he chose this instead. ‘I love you, you know.’

Tony is silent.

Steve can’t hear the wheeze of strained breathing or feel the beat of a heart beneath his fingers. He opens his eyes and Tony’s are still open. Steve throws up all over his boots.


End file.
